Late-Night Chat
by Mariel1
Summary: Dr. Jaming awakens from a disturbing dream, and he and Meredith discuss their child's future. Mild fluffy romance.


"Late-Night Chat"

_Author's Note:__ This is a one-shot involving Dr. Jaming, Meredith, and someone who has yet to enter the world. This really belongs in "Inventing the Future", but it takes place several months from where I currently am in the story, and it was practically begging to be written right away. I don't want to do a huge time skip, so here it is. Warning, mushy stuff ahead. Hope you enjoy it!_

Jaming was no stranger to nightmares. The kind he usually experienced didn't involve running from some unseen phantasm, or falling from a great height and awakening with a jolt as he rolled out of bed. No, his nightmares usually involved humiliation or having to relive past grief.

As Jaming came out of his latest nightmare, though, he realized that it was possible to experience a _third_ type. He opened his eyes, which were such a dark shade of brown that they almost appeared to be black, and he found himself looking into the pale blue eyes of his girlfriend.

Meredith marked her place in her book, which she set aside on the bedside table. "You okay, honey?"

Jaming blinked, reaching over to gently caress the rounded hill of her pregnant belly. Usually she didn't call him 'honey' unless she was concerned about something. "Why do you ask?"

"You were mumbling in your sleep," she replied, smiling a little as she settled her hand over his, the two of them cupping her abdomen. "I couldn't make out what you were saying, but you sounded upset."

He sat up and took back his hand. How could he tell her that he had dreamed of the birth of their child, and that it had come out looking just like _him?_ Blue skin. Blue hair. And, surely, the baby would grow the same strange teeth! He would _love_ his child, there was no doubt about that. Really, though, that was part of the problem, wasn't it? What if his son or daughter had to grow up facing the same problems _he'd_ had to face, just because he looked so different from other humans?

"It's nothing," he mumbled.

"Nothing you want to talk about, anyway..." she nodded, "That's okay."

Jaming sometimes wished that she couldn't read him so well, but he appreciated that she wasn't trying to force him to open up. That was one of the things he loved about her. She would let him open up in his own time while still letting him know that she would listen when he was ready to speak.

Smiling, he leaned over to nuzzle her cheek. "Is our little one keeping you awake?"

"No," Meredith grinned and snuggled in close. "It's the book. It's really good! You might like it, it's about a group of childhood friends who reunite as adults. One of them is an architect."

Jaming hadn't had any childhood friends, but the architect part got him mildly curious. "Maybe I'll read it when you're finished with it."

"Sure," she agreed, knowing that he probably would. As it turned out, aside from the dog-eared trio of romance novels she had received as gifts and stashed at the back of her bookcase, they shared the same taste in literature. Mysteries and science fiction were a mutual favorite.

Jaming was resting his hand on her belly once more, and a look of wonder came over his face as he felt something nudging back, softly but insistently. "Did you _feel _that?"

"I've been feeling that for the past few months," she chuckled.

"I think that was its _foot!_" Jaming's smile, jagged teeth and all, was exquisitely beautiful to Meredith in that moment. "I could feel the shape of it."

"I think so, too. The baby started moving when it heard us talking." she grinned. "What do you think it's going to be?"

Ever the smart-ass, Jaming innocently replied, "A baby."

Meredith poked him gently in the ribs, provoking a startled laugh. "Wise guy."

"I don't know." He shifted to face her fully, folding his legs into the lotus position. "What are you hoping for? Boy or girl?"

She turned to face him as well, and she seemed to seriously consider his question. "I don't think I have a preference. But I'm pretty sure it's a boy."

"Ah," Jaming nodded, reaching out and tucking a stray coil of her wavy hair behind her ear. "And how did you arrive at that conclusion?"

She caught his hand before he could withdraw it, and planted a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist. "I don't know. It's just a feeling I have."

Jaming gulped. She _knew_ it drove him crazy when she did things like that! "Well...whatever our child turns out to be...I hope it resembles its beautiful mother."

Meredith's smile faltered at the unspoken implication, and she tilted her head in sympathy. "Jaming...would you be terribly disappointed if it didn't?"

Unable to meet her gaze, Jaming stretched out on his side once more. "Of course not. I just...I don't want our baby to go through what _I_ went through."

Meredith lay back down, facing him. "I know. But you know what?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think that's what will happen," she said softly. "Not here. Not with the people our child will grow up with. This is a good place, and aside from the occasional rude tourist, these are good people. They know you, they _accept _you. And they'll accept our child, too. It'll be okay."

Jaming nodded slowly, feeling rather drowsy once more. He knew that she was right. More people were likely to settle in the area, but hopefully by that time he would have finally completed a successful floating platform. He no longer considered the one he'd made while working for Emperor Griffon a success, because he had found evidence of magical tampering, just as Meredith had suggested might be the case.

_'Let me just make a name for myself. Let me be someone my family can take pride in. Let our baby have a happier life than I did.'_

"You look like you're ready to go to sleep again," Meredith remarked, looking very tired herself.

"So do you. Why don't you turn the light off so that we can get some rest?" he suggested, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, reaching over to click off the light before getting comfortable beneath their blanket. "Night, honey."

Stifling a yawn, Jaming draped an arm over her and mumbled, "Night, my dear."


End file.
